


Christmas Cookie Confessions

by strangeallure



Category: CW Network RPF, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Baking, Christmas, Established Relationship, M/M, accidental confessions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-12
Updated: 2012-12-12
Packaged: 2017-11-20 23:39:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/590989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeallure/pseuds/strangeallure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were some things about December that never changed: Jared baked cookies and Jensen decorated them; Jensen got a tree and Jared put it up; Jared cooked a special Christmas dinner and Jensen ate it. Jensen loved their holiday traditions, he really did. Except, maybe, for this one thing ...</p>
<p>Written for the prompt "accidental confessions".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Cookie Confessions

Jared stomped into the house, leaving a trail of stuff in his wake: boots, mittens, a scarf, a beanie and several small and not-so-small bags from different stores and stalls at the farmers market. When he reached the kitchen table, where Jensen was obediently decorating Christmas cookies like the great boyfriend he was, Jared let the last bags in his hands clunk to the ground and gave a long, loud sigh. Jensen would have said something, but this Santa’s Cottage cookie was shaping up to become his masterpiece – all perfect lines and cute little holly leaves –, and so he really couldn’t afford to let go of the icing bag. Jensen wasn’t great at multitasking.

“Babe,“ Jared said. “I know I should’ve planned ahead better. And I should have gotten everything a couple of days in advance. It’s just that I honestly didn’t expect …” Whatever he hadn’t expected, Jared apparently couldn’t even put it into words. He exhaled and gave it another go. “I tried everywhere today, honestly. Wegmans, Trader Joe’s, Target, farmers market, corner shop. You name it, I was there. It’s just that … I think there must have been a Paula Deen special or something, or maybe it has something to do with Oprah, but-” Jared made a noise that strongly suggested that look usually reserved for the all-too frequent _Sorry, but I accidentally ate all your Cheetos_ confession. “I know it's our tradition and I know Christmas won't be quite the same without it, but ... I couldn’t get the cider for my cider and onion soup anywhere.” Jared sighed. “So there won’t be any soup this year.”

“Thank God,” Jensen sighed, clearly heartfelt. As soon as the words were out, he thought, _Fuck_. He also lost control of the icing bag, smearing a big blob of icing all across Santa’s carefully drawn face. He really sucked at multitasking. _Double fuck._

Jensen knew he should have said say something like, “That’s too bad,” or “No worries,” but instead he had told Jared the truth. 

When he finally dared to look up at Jared, Jared stood there like a child who had just found out that there was no Santa.

“But I thought it was your favorite,” he said, eyes wide. 

And Jensen really, really wanted to lie and make it all better, but his head was empty; a complete and utter void. Apparently, he couldn’t even feel embarrassed and think up a lie at the same time. Stupid multitasking.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could come up with.

“So you don’t really like our Christmas dinner?” Jared asked, and he didn’t even sound mad, just very, very quiet, which only made it worse. “The one I’ve been cooking for the last four years?”

“No,” Jensen’s response came quick as a shot. That wasn’t what he’d meant at all, and he wanted to make sure that Jared understood. This wasn’t about their Christmas tradition at all, it was all about Jared’s very sophisticated soup recipe and Jensen’s very _un_ sophisticated taste buds. 

“No, no, no.” Jensen got up from his chair, so he could get closer to Jared, who looked so upset. “I love the Christmas chili and the Clark Bars cake – you know I always take seconds. Or thirds.”

Jared blinked rapidly. “Yeah. You also said you just wanted to really _savor_ the soup, and leave room for the main course, but that you really loved it.”

It was true. That was what Jensen had said. What he had said, however, happened to be a lie. In Jensen’s honest, unfiltered opinion, the soup was a little disgusting.

“I’m really sorry,” Jensen said. “It was such a fancy thing from that expensive cookbook your mom gave you – and the first time you made it, you were so proud that it came out well. I-” he took a step closer. “I couldn’t tell you that it was a little _too_ fancy for me. I mean, when I’m feeling adventurous in the kitchen, I use Thousand Islands dressing instead of honey-mustard.” Jensen gave an apologetic shrug. “Onions _and_ cider _and_ cream – that’s just a little too much adventure for me.”

Jared cocked his head a little, like he often did when he thought something over. 

“You know,” he finally said, a serious tone to his voice. “I forgive you.” 

It was a little ridiculous how wide the smile on Jensen’s face felt, or how it grew even wider when Jared gave him a big hug. 

“But only because it’s Christmas,” Jared added, pulling away and pointing at the kitchen table. “And because you decorated all those cookies – just like I told you.” It was true, too. It had taken Jensen hours to draw stars and patterns and faces on all those cookies in the colorful icing that Jared liked best.

Jensen grinned. “So does that mean obedience gets me everything with you?”

Jared laughed and shook his head. “That’s not how obedience works, you know.”

Jensen gave a _You can’t blame a guy for trying_ -type shrug, but before he could say anything in response, Jared had already pulled him in close again.

“Now shut up and kiss me, you lowly kitchen-hand,” Jared said in a bossy voice, but his eyes were sparkling.

Jensen should maybe have put a stop to that _lowly kitchen-hand_ thing then and there – before it really could become _a thing_ \- but when Jared walked him to the counter, his mouth hot and wet on Jensen’s throat and his hips pushing forward, making Jensen spread his legs so Jared could get between them, could get closer, Jensen kind of lost that train of thought.

He never was good at multitasking.


End file.
